Old Men
by livjo33
Summary: A couple of hunters learn the stories of the Winchesters are true the hard way.


Disclaimer: Don't belong to me. I'm sure you're shocked.

AN: Hello everyone! I found this oneshot on my computer and it didn't seem totally horrible so I figured I'd post it and let anyone following me know I'm still alive. If you are following my story Getaway, know that I am working on a third chapter that _hopefully_ will be up soon! Until then, I hope this story is alright!

Old Men

The small bar was filled with a hazy light, the product of several burnt out bulbs rather than any fancy 'mood lighting'. There were sticky spots on the floor and old rock music scratched through cheap speakers. It was by no definition packed, only occupying about fifteen people. But every occupant of the bar looked dangerous; all of them wore worn out clothes that barely concealed the weapons they all carried. If a stranger happened to walk in, they would immediately walk back out, unwilling to stay in a place that was so obviously filled with hostile people. That stranger wouldn't know why they felt this feeling of foreboding, but if someone who belonged walked in, they would know. This little rundown bar outside the tiny town was a hunter bar.

Eddie and James were relatively new to the profession, each man only having found out about the supernatural in the last two years, but they already felt like veterans. Scars that now covered their bodies told of a brand-new life, one where few were lucky enough to survive long enough to become seasoned. Their new life was filled with danger and both men usually were very aware of their surroundings as a result. Today, though, they had decided to let loose a little. They had both passed 'a little' at least two drinks ago.

"'Ey," James slurred. Eddie slowly turned his gaze to his friend, wrenching his eyes from the ceiling where he'd been staring at the lights. "Who're those guys?" Just as slowly, Eddie turned his focus to what had captured James' attention.

Two men had just entered the bar. Even though Eddie had started to consider himself a veteran at hunting six month ago, Eddie could tell there was something different about those men.

One man was incredibly tall, long hair fell down around his shoulders, and his face was cut into sharp angles. He walked with a long stride, seemingly uncaring. However, Eddie could see that his dark eyes took in every detail of the bar he'd just walked into.

The man that accompanied the tall one was shorter, but that didn't mean he was short. He had a look in his eyes that made those who met his gaze feel small. His bow-legged walk exuded confidence and strength.

Both men slid into one of the few booths at the same time, completely in sync even without words. No words were exchanged between the men, but they seemed at ease with one another. Despite the easy posture each held, Eddie could tell that both men were capable of becoming lethal in seconds. He shivered.

"They're old!" James exclaimed. Eddie started, shocked that James' first words about the newcomers was their age. He hadn't even noticed the age of either man, too focused on the air of danger they exuded. Turning to look again, he saw that the men were older than most of the other hunters in the bar. Alcohol clouding his judgement, and throwing out the observances he'd just made, he smiled back at James.

"Maybe they're lost," he shrugged. After a few minutes of sitting with that thought, though, Eddie had started to get angry. These men obviously didn't belong in the presence of the real hunters that were sitting in the bar, people who put it all on the line to protect others. He reached out and hit James, "Let's go let these guys know that only real hunters are welcome here." James nodded and stood, wobbling for a moment. Eddie went to follow when a hand rested on his shoulder.

"I wouldn't do that if I was you sugar," the waitress that stood behind him drawled. "Don't tell me you've never heard of Sam and Dean Winchester?" Eddie shook his head and looked at James, who had slowly sunk back down into his seat.

The waitress snorted. "You boys just 'bout made the last mistake of your goddammed lives." With that, she walked away and approached another table, leaning down to talk to one of the men sitting there. He nodded and walked over to Eddie and James' table.

"What the hell kind of hunters are you if you ain't never heard of the Winchesters?" the man asked as he was sitting down. Eddie started to raise a protest but the man stopped him with a raised hand. "Never mind. Let me tell you boys something about those hunters over there," he pointed to the booth where the Winchesters were still sitting. "Those hunters are the men of legend. They've gone to hell, spit in the devil's face, an' come back unscathed. Hell, there's even stories that they've died a couple times but it didn't stick. If you boys know what's good for ya," he looked hard at each of them, "you'll do what the rest of us do. Leave them boys alone at all costs."

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"Ugh, this hunt couldn't have waited?" James groaned from beside him. Eddie was ready to strangle the man. That morning, both men felt pretty lousy. In fact, the phrase "hangover from hell" came to mind. However, this was the last day of the lunar cycle and the werewolf needed to be dealt with now. But if James complained one more time, the werewolf wasn't going to be the only thing that ended up dead.

"You know it couldn't have," Eddie gritted. "Besides, this is just recon, then we can get back to the motel and sleep until the actual hunt tonight."

James scoffed. "Yeah, but I don't get why these freaks always hide out in the woods."

Eddie rolled his eyes and tuned out James. For the most part, James was a good partner, but, any time the man felt a little lousy, he whined about everything. He was in the middle of dreaming about a soft bed when something distracted him. There was no noise coming from the trees surrounding them, not so much as a cricket. And if Eddie had learned anything from the past two years, it was that nature always quieted down when it sensed something unnatural.

Throwing his arm out and catching James in the chest, both men stopped abruptly. James had immediately silenced, going on high alert. The hunting partners slowly turned, trying to locate the threat.

 _It can't be the werewolf_ , Eddie thought. _They don't change during the d-_ Before he could finish his thought, something snarled on his right and then burst from the trees. It swiped at James, catching him in the side, then lunged at Eddie. With no time to react, Eddie was pinned underneath the werewolf.

"Looking for me?" the werewolf snarled. "How come you look so shocked to see me then?" The werewolf laughed, twisting what had once been a mid-twenties woman's face even further. "Really, I anticipated much more from hunters." The werewolf's claws glinted in the sunlight as it rose them to deliver the death blow. Before it could rip into Eddie, though, something barreled into it, knocking it off Eddie.

Shocked at not being dead, Eddie scrambled to his feet, fumbling for the gun he'd tucked into his jacket. It wouldn't do much good, it was loaded with lead bullets, but his self-preservation demanded that he at least be holding the gun. When he located the werewolf again, he was amazed at what he saw.

On the ground, ten feet away, the werewolf was locked in a deadly struggle with a man. It appeared as though both parties had gotten some blows in, but the werewolf had gained the upper hand. Straddled on top of Eddie's rescuer, the werewolf was straining desperately to flay the man with its claws. However, the man wasn't going down easily. The man had both his hands wrapped around the werewolf's forearms, arms shaking as he battled to keep the claws from his neck. Eddie could do nothing but watch, frozen to the ground.

The werewolf's claws sank lower in millimeters, and Eddie was sure the man was dead, that he was next. But, with a move too fast for Eddie to see, the man suddenly changed position. He dropped his left hand, leaving his right holding the werewolf away from him. Reaching into his jacket just and his right arm gave out, he produced a knife. Before he could use it, though, the werewolf swiped at his chest. The man cried out, but thrust his knife into the creature. For a few infinite seconds, the two hung like that, warrior and creature connected. Then, both slumped, utterly still. Everything couldn't have taken longer than two and a half minutes.

Eddie was still frozen in shock when another rustling came from the trees. Jolted by the thought that another threat might be coming his way, Eddie's brain managed to connect to his body again. He whirled around, pointing his gun in the direction of the sound.

"Dean!" another man burst from the trees. This man hardly even glanced at Eddie and his gun, he was immediately focused on the tangle of werewolf and man on the ground. He skidded to a stop and dropped down next to the felled man. "Dean!" he called again. Then, with brute strength, the man pushed the werewolf clear off the other.

The other man did not look good, he was bleeding from five slashes to his chest and other smaller wounds he'd acquired during the fight. Without saying another word, the man dropped his hand to the wounded man's throat. After a few seconds, he sighed and dropped his head. "Jesus, Dean. What the hell was that?"

Eddie felt like he was interrupting a private moment. He didn't have too long to feel awkward about it, though. The man snapped his head up and fixed a glare on Eddie that made him shiver. "What were you doing? Were you trying to get yourselves killed? Trying to get him killed?" he jerked his head angrily at the man on the ground. "You're supposed to be a hunter, dammit! It's not our job to save you!" When the man on the ground made a noise, it halted the other momentarily. Ripping his gaze away from Eddie, he looked to the man on the ground, readjusted the jacket the man wore, and then looked back at Eddie. "If anything else happens to him," he growled, much like the creature that lay dead just inches away, "no one will be able to save you."

And in that moment, the exact moment when he feared for his life, he knew who this man was. He recognized him from the bar last night. "Sam Winchester?" Words echoed in his ears that were just now coming back to him. _Leave them boys alone at all costs._

Eddie's words halted Sam's hands from where he had started ripping his shirt to make make-shift bandages for the other man. Once again, Eddie found himself in the heat of Sam's glare. "Do I know you?"

"You-you were at the bar last night."

"Yeah, how do you think I knew you were a hunter. We saw you, too. But that doesn't explain how you know my name."

Eddie found himself parroting the man at the bar's words. "You two are legends."

Before either man could say anything, James started groaning. Eddie jumped, then rushed to his friend's side, immediately feeling guilty for forgetting that the man had been injured. "Hey. Hey, James, it's me, Eddie. You're gonna be fine." The man really wasn't even bleeding that much, the werewolf had barely caught him with its claws. However, he had hit his head on a rock, so he was going to be down for a while.

"The hell hit me, man?" James asked woozily. Eddie just clamped his hand on James' arm, knowing the man wouldn't remember the conversation even if they had it. Bolstered with his friend by his side, no matter how concussed, Eddie turned back to Sam.

"Why were you following us?"

Sam sighed, long and weary. "Because we knew you were going to get yourself killed! You walked out here with no silver, right into the den of this werewolf, not even bothering to try and be quiet. Did you idiots even think to check if there might be another one?"

The other hunter's words shocked Eddie. The pair hadn't even considered the possibility of there being a second werewolf. However, he was more angered by Sam's other words. "It's not like we're two green kids out here! Werewolves aren't supposed to be out during the day so why would we need silver? And the last time I checked, werewolves don't hunt in packs! So back the hell off man!"

"You almost got my brother killed!" Sam roared and, before Eddie could blink, was up off the ground and gripping Eddie's shirt, twisting it in his grasp. Eddie started sweating, thinking on the irony that he had survived so many hunts only to be killed by an angry Winchester, when a quiet voice distracted Sam.

"Sammy," the man's quiet voice came from the ground. Sam's brother ( _Dean_ Eddie remembered) was struggling to sit up. "Sammy, if you kill him it's gonna make all this so not worth it."

With that, Sam dropped Eddie from his grip, rushing to his brother's side. Sam eased down next to Dean, pushing his hands against his brother's tattered chest, as if needing a physical reminder that his brother was still alive. Eddie heard a whispered "Easy on the merchandise" from Dean.

Seeming visibly calmed, but eyes still flinty, Sam looked at James and Eddie again. "These werewolves were different. They can change any time they want, they live in packs, and they're smart. Do us all a favor and be prepared next time." Without another word, Sam carefully hauled Dean up and the two shuffled off into the woods.

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Two weeks later, Eddie would tell his story at another hunter's bar, carefully looking over his shoulder for signs of either Winchester. He told how Dean had swooped in like an avenging angel, saving Eddie's life and going toe-to-toe with a werewolf and emerging alive. Then, he'd tell of the second werewolf they'd found on the way back to the car, a bullet in its brain and its heart. The part that he'd always tell with the most fear, though, was when Sam had loomed over him, murder in his eyes for Eddie being a part of his brother getting hurt.

James would always cut in there, remarking on the fact that they had thought the men were just two lost men in the bar that night, far too old to be hunters. There, Eddie, James, and whoever was listening would shiver at the tale (and other tales that were told) of the Winchesters' ferocity and lethalness. Before the silence broke and the conversation moved on, something Eddie had heard before always floated to the front of his mind. _Beware an old man in a profession where men usually die young._

AN2: Well, that's it! I hope it was alright….thanks for reading! And keep on the lookout for the third chapter of Getaway!


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